Political Officers in Conflict‭ ‬Zones:‭ ‬Public Diplomacy and Counterinsurgency – Part I‭

With the‭ ‬end‭ ‬of the great military confrontation in Central Europe,‭ ‬world wars are unlikely to recur.‭ ‬In the heteropolar world order which is arising, tensions will be generated and sparks will fly, but major powers will find non-violent ways to resolve their differences.

They must, if the catastrophic consequences associated with the failure to accommodate power shifts in the 20th century – two world wars and the Cold War – are not to be repeated.

State failure in secondary areas, on the other hand, can be managed – so to speak – mainly through denial, an averted gaze or, not infrequently, wilful blindness.

Among the residual conflicts that remain in the age of globalization, small-scale,‭ ‬irregular wars,‭ ‬ ‬such as those being waged in Afghanistan and Iraq,‭ ‬and asymmetrical wars,‭ ‬such as the Global War on Terror,‭ ‬ have moved to centre stage. Essentially discretionary in nature, these somewhat exotic, episodic contests have pitted regular militaries against an unconventional opposition, at best with mixed results.‭

Such types of conflict are often conflated, and are becoming more common. Yet success‭ ‬-‭ ‬as expressed through greater security‭ ‬-‭ ‬has not been achieved.‭

Foreign ministries, among others, have not been pre-occupied with assessing the meaning of these sorts of shifts, or the impact on how they conduct their operations abroad.

Not so, however, with the departments of defence. In‭ ‬1989,‭ ‬a group of serving and former members of the US military,‭ ‬mainly marines,‭ ‬put forth a very focused discussion of insurgency in a paper entitled‭ ‬Fourth Generation Warfare‭ (‬4GW‭).

The authors maintain that the essence of warfare has evolved from massed manpower,‭ ‬to massed firepower,‭ ‬to manoeuvre,‭ ‬and now to a fourth stage characterized by asymmetry.‭ ‬The old linear,‭ ‬hierarchic and orderly doctrines and practices must therefore be replaced by an appreciation of the unpredictable,‭ ‬loosely networked and disorderly conditions so prevalent in battle today,‭ ‬particularly in the often remote and turbulent areas where most of contemporary conflict occurs.

The ever-evolving nature of war has been captured especially eloquently by retired British general Sir Rupert Smith in‭ ‬The Utility of Force.‭ ‬Smith maintains that the all-out struggles of the‭ ‬20th century,‭ ‬epic trials of strength which he terms‭ “‬industrial war,‭” ‬have been made obsolete by nuclear weapons,‭ ‬and been replaced by a battle of wills,‭ ‬or‭ “‬war amongst the people,‭” ‬whose outcomes must ultimately be settled by political rather than military means.‭ ‬This was the case for conflicts in Northern Ireland,‭ ‬Cyprus,‭ ‬Algeria and Vietnam. A related lesson was painfully re-learned in Iraq,  and the need to find a negotiated end to NATO’s engagement in Afghanistan will almost certainly become the received wisdom  there.

The sad experience with the initially inept, uncoordinated response of the international community to the recent earthquake in Haiti provides a different angle on this observation. Decades of military intervention by a variety of outside forces,‭ ‬followed sometimes by internationally supervised elections,‭ ‬has not proven a successful substitute for the wholesale failure of development.

In any event…Irregular warfare ‬has‭ ‬become the new normal in global conflict. Its prevalence has given rise to innovative approaches to conflict management,‭ ‬such as the‭ “‬Three Block War‭”‬,‭ and Canada’s ‬3D (defence, development, diplomacy) approach to international intervention.‭ In 2006 the US Department of Defense released a new counterinsurgency strategy and strategic studies scholars are moving to organize and codify the various new approaches.

Some see all of this amounting to a‭ “‬revolution in military affairs‭”‬,‭ ‬a theory which originated in the USA and proved very popular with the Bush administration. Adherents suggest that changes in technology and organization have transformed the ways in which wars can and should be fought.‭

This‭ “‬revolution,‭” ‬moreover,‭ ‬has not produced the results its proponents predicted.‭ ‬Instead,‭ ‬it has prompted observations that:‭

  • the technologically strong cannot necessarily or always defeat the militarily weak,‭ ‬especially if the latter have the support of the local population‭
  • insurgent forces can inflict‭ (‬politically‭) ‬significant casualties against a much better armed opposition‭; ‬vulnerability has become mutual‭
  • when organized militaries,‭ ‬regardless of their notional capacities,  pursue irregular militants, victory can by no means be assured and blowback is likely
  • tactical,‭ ‬real time intelligence plus precision munitions cannot replace boots on the ground‭

‭All of this is fine, but an even larger message  seems to have been missed.

‭If counterinsurgency is 80% political, then why ask the military to take the lead in the first place? Their resources have attracted such taskings, yet this is – or should be – a job for diplomats.

‭That said, p‬olicy planning units in foreign ministries have for the most part not been engaged in thinking through the implications.

This is regrettable, because political officers and public diplomacy should have a central role in addressing the drivers of contemporary conflict.

Lessons from the Ends of the Earth

In my recent travels down under, I was struck repeatedly by the sense in which New Zealand and Australia seem for a Canadian at once remote yet accessible, exotic yet familiar.

They are in, but not of the Global South.

I was even more impressed by the extent to which the necessity of adapting to the reality of power shift – notably from the North Atlantic to the Asia Pacific – has registered at both the official level and among the population writ large in both countries.

As Anglophone outliers on the fringe of a former empire, this strategic and historical re-orientation is in many respects understandable, especially given the stunning rise of China and India, the steady progress of integration in Southeast Asia, and the extant economic accomplishments of Japan and Korea. Still, and certainly more so than countries in Europe or the Americas, they are doing what they can to position themselves to advantage.

As I travelled around, field testing the Guerrilla Diplomacy message – namely that the time is ripe for a revolution in diplomatic affairs and the adoption of an alternative understanding of security,‭ ‬development,‭ ‬and international relations in globalization age – the main lines of argument seemed to resonate.

Kiwis and Aussies didn’t need much convincing that if they are going to prosper in the Pacific Century, then they will have to make the most of their diplomatic assets in an increasingly heteropolar world.

For them – as for Canada – hard power coercion is simply not an option. And even if people are not shouting from the rooftops that grand strategy is urgently required, most of those whom I encountered were far less quiescent about their place in the world than your average North American.

Many of those I spoke with even agreed that diplomacy does, or at least should matter.

Nonetheless,‭ in the Antipodes as elsewhere, diplomacy ‬has been marginalized,‭ ‬sidelined,‭ ‬and is in crisis. It is suffering from the same “triple whammy” which has exacted such a devastating toll just about everywhere:‭

  • the continuing militarization of international affairs, through which policy has become an instrument of war,‭ ‬rather than reverse, and as a result of which foreign ministries find themselves severely under-resourced
  • the substantial failure‭ of diplomatic institutions to ‬adapt their practices to exigencies of globalization, resulting in structures that remain far too risk averse, hierarchic and authoritarian, and largely without the capacity to manage the emerging suite of transnational issues which are rooted in science and driven by technology‭
  • the debilitating image, if I may paraphrase the London cabbies whom I focus tested last fall, of diplomacy as synonymous with weakness and appeasement, and diplomats as dithering dandies, hopelessly lost in haze of irrelevance somewhere between protocol and alcohol.‭

Today,‭ then, diplomacy is suffering from grave problems of both image and substance. It is not delivering results for governments or for citizens. To make matters worse, that performance gap is exacerbated by an environment in which the‬ demand for diplomacy vastly outstrips its supply.‭

Evidence of this yawning diplomatic deficit is found not only in the rising tide of suffering,‭ ‬inequality,‭ and ‬unaddressed threats which beset us, but also in the ongoing socialization of globalization’s costs and‭ ‬the privatization of its benefits. The resulting polarization, coupled with the abject failure of diplomacy to engage remedially, in my view constitutes a peril far greater than ‭than any kind of terrorism, political extremism or religious violence.

So. If you don’t want to live in some variation of a of surveillance driven, razor wire encrusted green zone, with security provided by Blackwater and sanitation by KBR, what to do? How to break from this vicious cycle, to get from the unenviable place where we are to somewhere better?

Voyages down under have brought me back to first principles.

In the first instance, the art of international political communication through dialogue, negotiation and compromise needs a new,‭ more ‬contemporary narrative which goes well beyond the current discourse on either traditional or public diplomacy.

There are signs that this project is underway.

Secondly, analysts require a whirled view, a model of global order which extends well beyond the obsolete and territorially distinct notions of first, second and third worlds.

This, too, may be in train.

Finally, a radical and comprehensive reconstruction of mainstream thinking about the essential nature of international relations is long overdue.

Evidence of that enterprise remains scant.

On this climate change challenged, pandemic disease ridden, chronically resource scarce planet we live on, governments desperately need to find a better way forward, one without the enormous human and financial costs associated with the use of armed force.  I would suggest that they start by investing in the creation of a cadre of diplomatic professionals adept at knowledge-based problem solving, and able to apply complex balancing skills among and between sharply competing values, policies and interests.

Defence departments have the money, but this isn’t a job for soldiers.

And aspiring international policy bureaucrats –  those who now dominate diplomatic services and who favour life “in the bubble” to that in the street and prefer chatting with colleagues about what might be going on outside to finding out for themselves – need not apply.

It is time to hold on dispatching the legionnaires and instead to invest in the development of guerrilla diplomacy

The Silver Fern, The Maple Leaf… What’s in a Nation’s Brand?

Yesterday evening evening I was in Gore, a smallish town of about 10,000 way down near the bottom of the South Island of New Zealand, about one third of the way between Invercargill and Dunedin.

The motor camp in which I stayed did not yet have internet service – most now do – but along the main street I had my choice of Thai, Indian or Vietnamese food.

I was also able to do an interview with radio New Zealand via an excellent connection using my cell phone. Along with the expanded choice of dining options, that’s a  big change since I lived in NZ in 1993-4.

Gore styles itself the brown trout fishing capital of the world, which it may well be, judging by the number of people I saw standing around in the Mataura River in hip waders, smiling and flipping flies into the glistening eddies and beckoning pools.

In the centre of town is a giant sculpture of a jumping brown trout.

That’s a place brand, and it helps to differentiate Gore from other towns, most all of which in New Zealand welcome visitors with some kind of slogan , such as Where the Forest Meets the Sea, or Dairying Capital of the West.

Branding a nation – which consists of a country and its people – is somewhat more complex and difficult.  That kind of brand is formed over time, and comes less from what you say than from how you act and what you do.

When pronouncements and behaviour do not align,  the perilous say-do gap opens like a yawning chasm.

Even the best communications content and practices can never compensate for fundamentally flawed policy. That, among others, was the legacy lesson of the Bush administration.

NZ has made some progress promoting its “clean and green” image, an endeavour which received a major boost through the world-wide attention lavished on the local settings chosen for Peter Jackson’s visually spectacular and wildly popular Lord of the Rings trilogy.

Some of the film locales have become tourist attractions in their own right.

This is a stunning land.  Nature and beautiful scenery, however, are only good to a point – mountains and forests tend to be somewhat widespread and generic.

A successful brand, on the other hand, is unique, conveying both emotional appeal and a value proposition. That’s where the connection to a concrete, and usually highly stylized visual image can play a key role.

When it comes to a  logo, however, not all Kiwis gravitate towards the  silver fern logo which is especially present in some government publications and sports paraphenalia, such as the All Blacks rugby jerseys. Throughout this visit I have been making a point of asking New Zealanders to identify the graphic that best captures their national image, and almost as many have answered the kiwi, the koru, or the flag as have volunteered the silver fern.

That ambiguity is not really a problen at the moment, but if  New Zealand decides to gets serious one day about consolidating its brand internationally, a clear focus on a single  logo will be important.

In my veiw, there  would be much to be gained by pursuing such a course, particularly if the government of NZ choses to niche market itself as the strategic bridge among and between key players on all sides of the Pacific. Power is shifting towards Asia-Pacific as the dynamic centre of the world political economy in the 21st century, and there is no time to lose in this era of heteropolarity. Complex balancing skills, and knowledge driven problem-solving will be the order of the day.

For better or for worse, and as I elaborate at some length in Guerrilla Diplomacy, most countries do have a brand of one kind or another. It may be weak or strong, good or bad, but it’s there.

Consider, for example, this joke, using some familiar European archtypes.

Heaven is a place where the cooks are French, the lovers are Italian, the engineers are German, the time keepers are Swiss and the police are British.

Hell is a place where the lovers are Swiss, the cooks are British, the timekeepers are Italian, the police are German, and the French engineers are on strike…

Sure, these are caricatures, but there is something very elemental and important associated with a country’s image and reputation, which is why many governments have concluded that the matter of their national brand requires active management and consistent attention.

For smaller and medium sized countries, such as Canada or New Zealand, a global branding strategy would play to the advantages of being generally well-regarded internationally, while helping to overcome capacity limitations and the absence of hard power options. If your posture is not threatening, if you carry little historical baggage, if you are not seeking to dominion over others, and if your name evokes a positive pre-disposition, a smile rather than a scowl, then in branding terms you are positioned to advantage.

For all sorts of reasons, to draw again on some European examples, places like Serbia, Latvia and Romania face major branding challenges. On the other hand, countries such as Spain and Ireland, recent economic problems notwithstanding, have done a very good job of turning around their international image and reputation.

Public diplomacy is fuelled by soft power. Foreign ministries in Canada and NZ have ample ability to deliver the former, and each country has substantial reserves of the latter.

It is perhaps time for the world to see more of the silver fern and, might I add,  the maple leaf…

Guerrilla Diplomacy in Aotearoa

After a pause to regroup and to deliver a graduate seminar on Science, Technology and International Policy at the University of Toronto’s Munk Centre for International Studies, the GD road show is rolling on.

First stop is the Land of the Long White Cloud, or Aotearoa, where I arrived 01 March.

For those who have not had the privilege of visiting New Zealand, this is a compact country of about four and a half million with amazing geographical diversity – a kind of palm at the end of the mind, if I may borrow from the title of an anthology of Wallace Stevens’ poetry. It is one of my favourite spots anywhere, a most extraordinary crucible of human enterprise and experience where, among many other achievements, they have done a better job than most in balancing the needs and interests of first peoples and later arrivals.

To offer a symbolic example of these continuing efforts, when you call the foreign ministry, you are greeted with the Maori kia ora, and MFAT business cards are written in English and Maori.

Some might consider this token. Yet while certainly not without problems, the aboriginal dimension of life here is generally more present, visible and culturally integrated than, for example, in Canada.

For the last few days I have been in Napier, a dream-like, exquisitely human-scale city situated on the shores of Hawkes Bay. It was almost completely destroyed by an earthquake in 1931, and then rebuilt, largely in remarkably harmonious Art Deco style.

Today it stands as compelling testement to the virtues of architectural harmony, an impeccably preserved living monument which makes for a visual feast.

I once served in New Zealand, in 1993-94 as the Canadian Exchange Officer working for the NZ Ministry of Foreign Affairs and Trade.

The exchange position was cut during Canada’s deficit-reducing Program Review exercise later in the nineties. Both countries have lost out on strategic opportunities for collaboration, and in my view have emerged diminished as a result of that myopic decision.

New Zealand is to Australia not unlike what Canada is to the USA – more modest and self-effacing; less assertive, back-slapping and boisterous. Canada and New Zealand have much in common in terms of history and culture. They could, and I think should be doing more together as naturally compatible diplomatic partners, especially in the Asia-Pacific.

For smaller or medium sized countries that enjoy the benefit of a positive international image and reputation and do not threaten anyone or carry the baggage of major powers, the public diplomacy approach to forging joint venture partnerships with the like-minded  should be second nature.

The fact that it is not speaks to the larger, and more universal problem of diplomatic dysfunction.

But back to the here and now… Last Tuesday in Wellington, I had an excellent exchange with a group of MFAT Directors, and met later with their new, and impressive CEO John Allen. He has read GD and is enthusiastic about its contents. As I have noted in my encounters with foreign ministry staff elsewhere, recognition of the need for radical reform in the way we conduct the business of governments at home and abroad appears to be near universal.

Preaching to the converted in foreign ministries is one thing; making the case for diplomacy as a cost-effective alternative to the use of armed force can be quite another.  So far, however, the response of those who have attended my presentations at NZIIA branches in Wellington, Palmerston North, Havelock North and Napier has been both engaged and supportive. Most agree that although the case can be made that diplomacy matters, as a non-violent formula for the management of international relations, it is seriously underperforming.

Why? Because diplomacy has not adapted well to the challenges of globalization, has been sidelined by the continuing militarization of international policy, and as a result suffers from grave problems of both image and substance.

That diagnosis resonates here.

But so do the arguments in favour engineering a more relevant foreign ministry, a transformed foreign service, and a more effective approach to the conduct of diplomatic business.

More on all of this in the coming weeks.

Diplomacy’s Prospects: Looking Forward, Looking Back – Part II

After side trips to Haiti and Afghanistan in recent postings, I return now to the matter of inter-cultural political communications, and to the role of diplomacy as an alternative to the use of force.

No matter how you cut it, the decision to intervene militarily in foreign lands is fraught, and past experience with escalation in the face of complex political, security and development issues has not been good.

Ironically, some of the keys to future success may lie in the past, that is, in revisiting the models of the Victorian era District Officers and Political Agents who worked in the employ of the British Colonial Service. The best of that lot knew the language(s) and the history, were networked, connected, relentlessly innovative and highly self-reliant.

Consider, for instance, a comment received from one of my correspondents who has acquired some recent professional experience working in a PRT for ISAF in Afghanistan. He writes in reference to a feature article by Jerome Starkey (Ignorant CIA should copy Raj agents to avoid failure says spy chief) which appeared in the Times of London 06 January 2010:

This article got my attention, because it actually says what I am writing a novel about: the resurrection of a cadre of Victorian era-style political agents for today’s badlands. As a former political advisor in Afghanistan, General Flynn aptly describes how I saw and performed my job. So the one thing he doesn’t mention, is that military personnel are incapable of doing this. You can’t expect people who have been drilled to frogmarch and do everything following proper procedure to suddenly be extrovert and think out of the box. Diplomats can. At least those diplomats who stay clear of the perfume route to an ambassadorship, i.e. your guerrilla diplomats.

In a follow-up exchange, my correspondent continues:

… in the borderlands of the Raj the colonial officers were called ‘Agents’, because the authorities were under no illusion they could administer anything. They were basically eyes and ears, and schemers. In the settled areas, the authorities maintained presence through District ‘Officers’, because there was something to administer there.

These agents leased small tribal coalitions, ran with small bands of the so-called Waziri Scouts, divided but did not rule, bribed, and when things got really out of hand, they called in the Indian Army that would bombard entire villages in what was an official policy of ‘collective punishment’. This was something the Waziris, Afridis, Youzoufzai and other Pathans understood very well. Essentially, a forward strategy that you employ towards buffer states: you keep a weary eye on things, gather intel, but you stay the hell out of the place!

Can somebody tell Obama?

…Indeed, we shouldn’t be studying (if we are studying at all) the Russian experience, but Britain’s colonial experiences in that part of the world.

This is perhaps a thread worth following. Certainly, the colonial enterprise deserves its place in the dustbin of history, and all of this seems overly reliant upon the the threat or use of force.  As Sir John Malcolm is reported to have said, “A political agent is never so likely to succeed as when he negotiates at the head of an army”, and almost two hundred years later I still have a problem with that.

Nonetheless, there is always something to be learned from past experience, and some of these these kinds of observations might usefully be taken on board if performance in dispute resolution and the non-violent management of international relations is ever to improve. The crucial elements of flexibility, adaptability, risk-tolerance, autonomy and resilience remain all too rare in contemporary diplomatic practice.  The fundamental message here is that there are political and diplomatic alternatives to military occupation and large scale combat operations. These alternatives merit closer examination and experimentation.

Consider as well this final passage excerpted from Starkey’s article:

Only a handful of NATO soldiers speak Pashto, the language of the Taleban, and few spend more than a year in Afghanistan at a time.

General Flynn warned that NATO had concentrated too much on plotting out terrorist networks to launch kill-and-capture missions at the expense of understanding the local people they were trying to win over.

But in a rare example of an operation in which intelligence was working, he said US Marines in Nawa, Helmand, had managed to build up a detailed picture of the people around them. “As the picture sharpened, the focus honed in on what the battalion called ‘anchor points’ — local personalities and local grievances that, if skilfully exploited, could drive a wedge between the insurgents and the greater population.”

Such knowledge was the currency of Britain’s Raj-era political officers, who — armed with little more than wit and a keen sense of adventure — often disappeared into the hills for years at a time, penning detailed dispatches to their political masters in Delhi and London.

“The collection of information is one of the most important military duties,” wrote Winston Churchill in his first-hand account of a British campaign along the Afghan-Pakistan border. The Story of the Malakand Field Force, published in 1897, includes reams of colourful detail about local tribal dynamics.

General Flynn argued that soldiers needed to learn from recent mistakes. He cited one example in which local women destroyed a new well in their village because it denied them a chance to walk to the river each day and gossip.

His warning was clear: “Without the ability to capture this simple history, prosaic as it may be, others are doomed to repeat it.”

Put another way, to borrow from Robert Fisk, when it comes to high-risk expeditionary interventions and related foreign adventures, it appears so far that “the only thing we ever learn is that we never learn”.

If radically re-constructed and  dedicated to knowledge-driven problem solving and complex balancing in an increasingly heteropolar world, diplomacy offers the prospect of something better.

Hard Power, Soft Power, and Talking to the Taliban

In the wake of the London conference on Afghanistan last week, there has been much speculation about whether or not a page has been turned. Does the strategic balance now favour talking over fighting en route to the withdrawal of foreign troops?

In order to understand, frame and contextualize recent developments, it may be useful to highlight some of the‭ ‬essential differences,‭ ‬and perhaps especially several of the less appreciated ones,‭ ‬between the nature and agency of hard and soft power.‭  ‬In terms of international policy instruments, the former is associated principally with the armed forces,‭ ‬and the latter with diplomacy,‭ ‬in general,‭ ‬and public diplomacy,‭ ‬in particular.‭

When the two power sources and international policy instruments are compared,‭ ‬the obstacles and constraints to their effective‭ ‬combination may become clearer.‭

Following are some of the basic distinctions:

  • Definitions.‭ ‬Hard power is about compelling your adversary to comply with your will through the threat or use of force.‭ ‬Soft power is about attracting your partner to share your goals through dialogue and exchange.‭
  • Objectives.‭ ‬Hard power seeks to kill,‭ ‬capture,‭ ‬or defeat an enemy.‭ ‬Soft power seeks‭  ‬influence through understanding and the identification of common ground.
  • Techniques.‭ ‬Hard power relies ultimately on sanctions and flows from the barrel of a gun.‭ ‬Soft power is rooted in meaningful exchange and the art of persuasion.‭
  • Values.‭ ‬Hard power is macho,‭ ‬absolute,‭ ‬and zero sum.‭ ‬Soft power is supple,‭ ‬subtle,‭ ‬and win/win.
  • Ethos.‭ ‬Hard power engenders fear,‭ ‬anguish and suspicion.‭ ‬Soft power flourishes in an atmosphere of confidence,‭ ‬trust and respect.‭

These distinctions between hard and soft power can become dis-junctures when placed in an institutional setting or applied in the field.‭ ‬That is,‭ ‬while significant enough in themselves,‭ ‬the disconnects are exacerbated by differences within and between the bureaucratic cultures of the military and, for example, foreign ministries or international organizations.‭ ‬‭ ‬

Hierarchy,‭ ‬obedience,‭ ‬and control are part of the‭ ‬DNA of military hard power; an institution designed primarily for fighting is not best-suited for talking.

The genome of soft power,‭ ‬of public diplomacy,‭ ‬in contrast,‭ ‬turns on relationships,‭ ‬on lateral connectivity and on the construction and maintenance of collaborative networks.‭ ‬These tasks are better left to diplomats, not soldiers, especially in a place such as Afghanistan, where the sheer complexity is staggering.

For most of its time in-country, however, NATO has been relying primarily on hard power. ISAF diplomats, particularly those working from PRTs outside of Kabul, spend much of their time inside heavily guarded compounds, venturing outside the wire mainly in armoured convoys, and not frequently or for protracted periods.This is the antithesis of guerrilla diplomacy, and does not position NATO representatives to effectively engage the population.

The issues sketched above touch on several of the highly problematic aspects inherent in the smart power formula, which seeks to combine hard and soft power.

There are also a number of questions and issues particular to Afghanistan which remain unaddressed.

If the presence of foreign troops in Afghanistan has come to be seen by significant elements of the population as that of an occupying force, does it not follow that the  surge will only make matters worse?

With the highly decentralized, and far from monolithic Taliban by most accounts ascendent on the ground within Afghanistan at this time, are they likely to respond favourably to an invitation to talk, to negotiate in good faith, or to make the concessions necessary if any form of compromise is to prevail?

With the political popularity of the war slipping in most ISAF member states, would it not make more strategic sense for the Taliban simply to step back and wait until the majority of foreign forces depart?

Given Afghanistan’s long history as a graveyard of imperial ambitions, and after incurring – and imposing – such high human and economic costs, why did it take NATO planners eight years to arrive at this juncture?

Stability in Afghanistan, to the extent that it has ever been enjoyed, tends to feature a weak political centre governing lightly through complex and constantly shifting alliances with various powers in the periphery.

It is very likely that this pattern will re-assert itself. Whether or not that is achieved through a resumption of the civil war into which ISAF intevened on one side (the Northern Alliance, who for all intents and purposes had been defeated by the Taliban) or can be accomplished through the careful orchestration of some kind of peace remains to be seen.

Based on performance to date, skepticism seems warranted. When the history is written of this latest, sorry chapter in the long history of attempts on the part of Western powers to have their way with Afghanistan, it will be likely be judged to have been ineptly managed since the day the Taliban were driven from power. Throughout the interim period, Afghanistan has been allowed to swing like a pendulum, alternating back and forth from centre stage to sideshow in the Global War on Terror.

Under the circumstances of (yet another) failed foreign intervention, any attempt to combine hard and soft power in Afghanistan will necessarily be fraught, both morally and strategically.

On one hand, it is hard to imagine that NATO’s performance might worsen.

On the other, if one of the parties is headed for the exits and the other prepared to bide its time, the best that might be expected is a Vietnam style peace with honour which will provide a decent interval before the inevitable occurs.

Should that outcome eventuate, the really difficult questions will surely follow.

Earthquake in Haiti: Reflections in the Aftermath

I will return to a consideration of diplomacy’s prospects in the 21st century in a future posting.

In the meantime, it seems to me that the disaster in Haiti, and the response of the international community, merit some sustained reflection.

In Haiti, do the ethos of guerrilla diplomacy and the imperative of providing emergency medical and humanitarian assistance to those in need intersect?

I think so. But to see how, and as with the role of diplomacy in international relations writ large, it is time both to look back, and to look ahead.

Thirty years ago on a backpacking trip I had the opportunity to travel on both sides of the border which divides the second largest island in the Caribbean, Hispaniola, between Haiti and the Dominican Republic. I have been fascinated by the place ever since. There is much to be learned in studying this locale, very little of which is coming out in the frenzy of sensational and heart-rending coverage which has attended the arrival of the legions of mainstream media, a group otherwise conspicuous mainly by their absence.

On the other hand, given the frequency and intensity of natural calamities which have beset Haiti in recent years,  many of those involved in the disaster relief industry must be developing quite a familiarity with the country. Some aspects of it, anyway.

The better hotels and restaurants, for instance…

In the wake of witnessing the machinery of  celebrity in full mobilization in delivering the Hope for Haiti Now telethon – admirable despite the glitz and sometimes forced images – it’s easy to be hard.

And there is certainly plenty of blame to go around.

But the story is more than just complex. It’s tragic, and that makes lapsing into cynicism and despair all too tempting. Yet from knowledge can come the understanding leads to change.

Stepping back a bit, what might be said of the island’s history?

Christopher Columbus founded the first European settlements in the New World on Hispaniola in 1492 and 1493.

It was not, however, considered the new world by the the estimated 400,000 native Amerindian Arawaks (Taino) who were living there before the period of European colonization and the importation of slaves from Africa to work the plantation economies.

The Taino initially welcomed the visitors.  Yet a combination of harsh treatment by the Europeans and exposure to imported diseases to which they had no immunity, such as smallpox, resulted in the near extinction of the island’s original inhabitants.

When the western third of Hispaniola was ceded by Spain to France in 1697 as part of the settlement of the Nine Years War, the French colony quickly came to eclipse its Spanish neighbour in power and wealth, and became known as the “Pearl of the Antilles“. For a time, it was the richest and most prosperous colony in the Caribbean.

Following a successful struggle for independence which concluded in 1804, Haiti became only the second country in the Americas to achieve that status after the United States.  In response, a trade embargo was imposed on Haiti by France, the former colonial master (which for a variety of reasons has never left anywhere that it has not been thrown out of), the USA, where slavery was still legal, and Great Britain, which did not wish to see its Caribbean colonies follow the Haitian example.

This animosity proved costly. In the intervening years, the fortunes of Haiti and the Dominican Republic have been reversed, with the former now the poorest country in the hemisphere, and the latter becoming the largest economy in the region.

Nowhere is this dichotomy move vividly illustrated than in satellite telemetry, which in places shows  relatively lush, green terrain on the Dominican side of the border, and a deforested, over-cultivated, and exhausted land on the other.

Haiti was occupied by the US marines from 1915 – 1934, due mainly to its indebtedness to American banks and concerns over the influence of expatriate Germans. It has experienced many foreign interventions since and has become, in effect, a ward of the international community.

Today it might be best be described not only as a failed state, but, in every sense, as a collapsed one.

That is one set of observations which play into the complex emergency now unfolding on the ground.

But there are many.

For example, it is crucial to distinguish between humanitarian relief, which is immediate and short term; aid, which tends to be technical and project oriented, and; development, which, at its best, is long-term, human-centred, equitable and sustainable. Development is the flip side of security. It is a process, not an end state, and is characterized by a situation in which people have access to social, political and economic opportunities to reach their full potential.

Haiti has much experience with disaster relief, and has received substantial amounts of aid, but has achieved very little over the 200 years since independence in terms of development.

In reference ACTE model of world order set out in Guerrilla Diplomacy, with the exception of a tiny elite and almost non-existent middle class, most Haitians inhabit the T and E worlds.

And it must be asked, in this crisis of colossal proportions, why is it that foreign military forces, especially those of the US, are leading the international response? If the answer is that it is an issue of capacity and resources, then a larger question is begged.

Why is it that the capacity and resources required to respond to complex emergencies are lodged in defence departments, and not in specialized civilian agencies?

Is this the most efficient, effective model for the delivery of emergency humanitarian assistance?  I have real doubts. As institutions, and at the most basic level of analysis, militaries exist to kill or capture enemies. As instruments of international policy they are designed to compel your adversary to submit to your will through the threat, or use of armed force. Sure, they can do other things, but those things – reconstruction, humanitarian assistance, cross-cultural and strategic communications – are not what they were intended for.

So, then. Where are the purpose-built institutions, and why are they not resourced to lead?

Another issue is intelligence. Intimate knowledge of the way things work, and how to get things done in Haiti would greatly expedite relief efforts. How much of that kind of essential, granular intelligence was being generated by the local embassies of the countries now most involved in the relief efforts?  Like the tourists alighting on a heavily guarded beach from the cruise ship Independence of the Seas a few days after the earthquake, were the Port au Prince based diplomatic representatives of Western countries living in a bubble, talking mainly to others of their ilk about what might be going on out there?

Or were they getting out of the compound and finding out for themselves, seeping down like penetrating oil into the interstices of power and influence by navigating pathways inaccessible to others?

Senior officials in sending states and managers in foreign ministries should be asking, and demanding answers to these hard questions.

Finally, there is the matter of the Haitian diaspora communities abroad. Members of this group will know more about what is going on Haiti than a handful of diplomats working out of an embassy in Port au Prince ever can or will.  In Canada, almost 100,000 persons of Haitian origin live in Quebec, mainly in Montreal. Haiti is also the second largest recipient, after Afghanistan, of Canadian development assistance.

Canadian interests are engaged.

With the Haitian diaspora’s dense network of ties back to the old country, it is long past time that foreign service officers were posted to Montreal with the explicit task of openly and transparently getting to know everything about, and all of the key people in that community.

There are huge challenges to be broached in Haiti at the best of times. The situation at present is dire and requires immediate and compassionate redress.

But there is much more to be learned from contemplating the roots of Haiti’s distress than will ever be gleaned from newspaper headlines or the fleeting images crossing television and computer screens.

There is also great potential for improving performance, an imperative which should be front and centre at the donors meeting being convened in Montreal January 25th.

We will delve more deeply into these issues in future posts.